eming, does this trust in God save those who possess it. On this
blessed assurance my father took his stand in all the difficulties of
life. It never failed him, and so we his sons had a good training and a
godly example.

The younger members of each generation followed various honourable
professions, but they failed to rise to high rank in them, owing, I
fancy, to a want of worldly ambition--the general characteristic of our
race. Altogether, however, I believe them to have been a simple-minded,
upright, clear sighted set of people, who did whatever their hands found
to do honestly and with all their might. Such people ought to rise, it
may be said. So they do,--but not to what the world calls the summit.
They generally rise to a position of independence, where they may enjoy
fair scope for the exercise of their mental and spiritual faculties.
There they are content to remain, for a time. This world is not their
rest. Another world opens to their view. In that they see the goal at
which they aim. There is the golden crown. Why then be distracted by
the glittering baubles which are held up to draw their attention from
the real jewel--the gem without price? I am happy in the belief that
such was the reason that my ancestors did not become men of much worldly
note.

The occupant of the family estate had always attended to its
cultivation, and was properly called a gentleman farmer. Unostentatious
and frugal, he never lacked means, in spite of bad harvests or
unexpected losses, to assist the younger members of the family in
starting in life, or to help forward any good cause which required aid.

My father, Paul Harvey, was a perfect type of the family--so was my
elder brother, his namesake. John came next; a daughter followed; I was
his fourth child. He kept up a good old custom--never broken through
from any excuse. An hour before bed-time his children and the whole
household assembled in the sitting-room, when he read and explained a
chapter in the Bible. A hymn was sung, and prayers full of fervour were
offered up to the throne of grace. After this a simple supper was
placed on the table, and we were encouraged to speak on the events of
the day, or on what we had read or thought of. That hour was generally
the pleasantest of the twenty-four. Our father guided, if he did not
lead the conversation, and generally managed to infuse his spirit into
it. Although many of the subjects discussed even now ri